


The Fourteen Days of Valentines

by MyScarletLetter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack--of the awkward Kind, I suck at tags, Miscommunication, Pretty much entirely MCU compliant, Super Awkard All the Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:12:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9730448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyScarletLetter/pseuds/MyScarletLetter
Summary: For the Steve/Darcy 2017 Valentines Exchange.  For dejavudreamer7 who prompted: Darcy being non-romantic and having a super blasé attitude towards Valentine's, but Steve doesn't know this and goes all-out to try to get her to be his Valentine, only Darcy thinks it's all a laugh. Cue *realization* and dating/sexytimes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my very first posting of fanfiction, so if it sucks major donkey balls…well, I tried! Lol My hope was to have this ALL posted by Valentine’s day, but I seriously miscalculated just how long it would take to do all of the editing. All kudos to all you normal fic writers….I am super grateful and appreciate all you do. I am only posting the first chapter of this NOW, because I wanted dejavudreamer7 to at least have SOMETHING in the way of fic for V-day. Hugs to you and I hope your Valentines is covered in amazingness.

_February 14, 2017_

 

“Oh fuck…. I tongued the wrong man.”

 

These were the only words that played on a loop through Darcy Lewis’s mind as she stared at the astonished man in front of her.   Even that bizarre cloak, that she could SWEAR was sentient, appeared to flatten itself back in a state of shock.    


Darcy had always scoffed when she read that a person’s face was _on fire_ when they were truly embarrassed.  Maybe it's because she’d never been one to embarrass easily, so she always mocked people who wrote that way, and claimed it was “fanciful bullshit.”  However, she would have to eat _both_ of Odin’s crows, (oh shit, or were those ravens?) as she stood there and actually felt her face radiate heat.   And this “fanciful bullshit” would later become the scapegoat for the incredibly dumb response the spilled out of her mouth next.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Am I sure that I am not the one trying to secure your affections, Miss Lewis?”  His voice was an amused rumble….

 

…. _an amused rumble?_ Oh fuck me! More “fanciful bullshit! Seriously, who even says shit like that?!  Darcy knew who…it was that secret admirer asshole!  She was a perfectly SANE, perfectly LOGICAL woman who didn’t fall for all this glittery hearts and rose petal crap.  This ASSHOLE had her thinking in “fanciful bullshit” phrases. Damn him!

 

Darcy had no idea how many seconds _actually_ passed while she mentally berated her cupid ninja, but when the edges of that magic cloak twisted itself into small fingers and began to rub at the lipstick…her lipstick…that was smudged all over the magicians lips, even _more_ intelligent poetry began to fly out of her mouth.

   
“Oh my…. oh I... Mister…. I mean Sir…I mean Doctor Sir.... “ She was pretty sure that she could quickly lap Sam with the amount of flapping her arms were doing trying to gesture and explain what on earth happened.  “I mean… Doctor Strange Sir.... I am so sorry! I am so so sorry!”    

 

She had **no** idea why her hands chose to grip his cape again, possibly because she worked with a physicist and Murphy and laws were a thing.  Darcy believes the brain simply shuts down during these episodes, and every bit of stupid that exists within a person comes out.   What happened next, was like every stupid comedy routine Darcy had ever seen, where she laughed at those characters because…… _that_ can’t actually happen.  Doctor Stephen Strange, most definitely in an attempt to keep himself from being assaulted again, jerked sharply away from her.   Unfortunately for Miss Lewis, it was hard enough to knock her off-balance.  The crazy ass cape, in a last ditch effort to protect his friend, elected _that_ moment to play the role of Aladdin's magic carpet ride.  And that boys and girls, is how Darcy Lewis, lab assistant extraordinaire,  ended up face first in the crotch of Doctor Stephen Strange **_while_** floating midair at the first ever “Avengers Valentine Banquet. “

   
In light of the mass insanity, it is no wonder that no one noticed when a tall, blonde super soldier silently crept out.  
  
  



	2. Darcy Lewis's Little Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realize it has been like THREE weeks since I updated this...AND it was for a Valentine's Day Challenge....Oh heavens. But there were good reasons....sort of. lol I had most of the middle and end already written, but I couldn't make heads or tails out of what would have been chapter two. Then a thousand plot bunnies got ahold of my brain and I have WAY more text than I ever thought possible. So, I think this thing will be about fourteen chapters long...I think. Ha! I hope you guys enjoy!

The great “From Head to the Heart Debacle,” as it would later be dubbed by a very smug Clint Barton, was a cluster of epic proportions the archer _claimed_ he foresaw weeks in advance.  However, the retaliation from the tiny brunette for **that** title, was a prank that _years later_ made even Natasha Romanoff leery of getting on Darcy Lewis’s bad side.

 

Yet, however smug the great Hawkeye was about catching details, this time he was dead wrong.  In fact, the events that led up to what _Darcy_ would always refer to as “That time I tongued the wrong Steve,” began 22 years earlier, when Darcy was only five years old.

 

****************************************************

If you asked Darcy Lewis when her _secret_ obsession with one Steven Grant Rogers began, she could tell you an exact date and time.  It was noon, on July 4, 1995.  It was hot as balls outside and her parents let her go to the library for story time.  “Let her go” is actually parent speak for “please-God-I-have-to-get-this-child-out-of-this-house-because-if-I-have-to-answer-one-more-why-question-while-I’m-trying-to-pee,-I’m-either-going-to-start-drinking-or-pull-out-my-hair.”  

Because it was Independence Day, the library was showing old clips of the United States’ most patriotic mascot, Captain America.  Five year old Darcy sat mesmerized for _hours_ by all the propaganda footage made during the war.  Violet Lewis was shocked.  She had never seen her daughter so still.

The little five year old ball of energy caused a major panic in the library that day.  Because, as mischievous children often do, once her mom turned her back for _just a moment_ , Darcy disappeared.  They searched everywhere for the child.  Finally, over an hour later, one of the librarians found her tucked into a dusty corner of the second floor trying to figure out the archives.  At. Five. Years. Old. 

Her mother grabbed her and snotted all over her shoulders as she wept hysterically. She took turns between scolding Darcy for wandering away and grabbing her face and kissing her….until she would burst into tears again over how grateful she was that her daughter was alive. Scold, kiss, sob, kiss, hug and _REPEAT_.

When she finally had swallowed the hysteria enough to form coherent sentences, she asked her daughter why on earth she had come up there. 

“Mom it was the movie. I want to know him.” 

  
“The movies?” Poor Violet Lewis had no idea what her daughter was gushing about. Oh. The movies…. “Oh Honey, I'm sorry to tell you, but he died a long time ago.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I know that mom. That's why I'm here in the archives.”

When the puffy, red-faced lady only raised both eyebrows and narrowed her eyes, Darcy continued.  “The only stuff they had downstairs in the kids section was the comic books.”

“Ohhh. I see, and you don’t like comics?”

“No, mom.  I don't want to know about Captain America. I want to know Steve Rogers.”

 

*********************************************************

 

Working with Jane and being the adopted kin of a blonde demi god meant that a) the little makeshift family moved around a whole hell of a lot, and b) at some point each of the Avengers filtered through Darcy’s life.  **_Everyone_** knew who Darcy was.  It was hard to miss her.  Some knew her as the quirky assistant to one Doctor Jane Foster.  She was the stern handler who made sure the tiny astrophysist remembered how “to human.”  That was the term Darcy used at least.  She had _long_ since stopped trying to get Jane to “adult,” and was content if she accomplished normal human activities…such as sleeping, eating and getting her brain out of the stars long enough to have Taco Tuesday.  Others knew her as adopted kin to Thor, the fair haired Viking god, who never got tired of sharing “that story.”  They knew about the massive prank war she created with Hawkeye…. and beat him at his own game.  They _all_ knew her as a passionate advocate for human rights.  In the past, many a fool had underestimated the little brunette and assumed because she could knit and bake as well any 80 year old grandmother, that she wouldn’t be a threat in the political sphere…..until they saw her rip out the throats of her opponents as she fought for women and children.

But there was one thing that _none_ of the Avengers knew about.  Not even the spysassins discerned that Darcy Anne Lewis was a Captain America expert.  If the truth be known (which it was NOT), Darcy Lewis was THE world’s leading expert on Steven Grant Rogers, AKA Captain America. Darcy Lewis knew ALL ABOUT Captain America…..  Or at least she thought she did.  Regardless, no one picked up on that little tidbit that had consumed a huge portion of her life.  It just wasn’t something she talked about. 

Ever since that morning in the library, when a five year old told her mother that she wanted to know Steve Rogers, it became her life’s quiet obsession.  She wasn’t a fangirl who wanted to pepper her walls with red, white, and blue spangled booty and sleep with her plush Cap dolls.  Nope.  Darcy wanted information.  The little girl had a passion for history, long before she ever became a political activist.  By the time she was 8, her parents had accepted their daughter’s strange obsession and bought her a gift she would treasure the rest of her life.

************************************************

“Darcy, honey! It’s time to open presents!” Violet Lewis called up the stairs.  She tilted her head, listening for the sound little feet flying down the stairs, and sighed when there was no answer.

The tired mom rubbed her temples gently as she climbed the stairs and cracked open the door to her daughters room.  A strong scent hit her nostrils…a library.  Leather and old pages.  That’s what her daughter’s room smelled like every time she came in these days.

“Darce?”

Messy brown hair bounced as a tiny head jolted up.  Pale blue eyes blinked owlishly at her mom.  Violet knew she had been lost again.  She was being transported to some place long ago in history and likely had no idea what was going on around her in the real world.

“It’s time to open presents, honey.” Violet tried again.

A huge gap toothed grin slid across her daughters face as she slapped the book closed and bounded off her bed and down the stairs.

Darcy had asked (like she always did) for only a small gathering of family and a couple friends.  For some reason she rarely enjoyed the company of people her own age, preferring to sit and chat with her cousins in their twenties or to knit with her grandmother in her sixties. 

Darcy loved presents.  She loved the surprise.  She loved the color and curl of the ribbon and there was just something so exciting about trying to guess what was in each package. Afterwards, when all her gifts were nothing more than a huge mound of paper and ribbon, she was prepared to thank everyone and get back to her book, when Violet laid a small hand against her shoulder.

“Just a moment, Darce.  Your father and I have one more for you.”

“Is it a donkey? Because I will totally consider that a fulfillment of my pony wish.”

Violet just smiled and ignored her daughter’s bizarre response.

“Is it a Power puff girl?  Because I totally want to be buttercup.” She ripped into the paper and confusion crinkled her little face as she stared at her mother’s face and back at the weird contraption in her lap.

“It’s a portable scanner, honey.  And these disks here?  They’ll hold the files you scan.”

Never before and never until the day she died did Violet Lewis see that particular look on her daughters face.  The tiny brunette’s eyes were glassy with awe and her face shone with pure adoration and gratitude.  Without warning, her arms were full of a feisty eight year old who repeated over and over, “Oh thank you mommy! It’s the best present EVER!  I can’t wait to use it!”

*************************************************

 And use it she did.  She started with all the books she currently owned.  Admittedly, only a few.  Once she tackled those, then she went to the library and scanned in all the books she could check out.  Still not very many.  However, where her scanner _really_ became her best friend was in the archive section.  She couldn’t check out THOSE materials, she had to look at them at the table in the archive room.  But NOW she could scan them and pull them up at home.  Once she finished with her own public library, she started making use of the interlibrary loan.  Darcy took her scanner with her wherever she went.  Field trips at school to the state capital?  Darcy could be found asking the archivist if she could scan a primary source diary entry from one of the USO girl’s journal about their tour with Captain America.  Or she could be found snapping pictures of anything relating to the thirties and forties.  Nothing was safe.  If it had ANYTHING to do with Captain America OR the time period he lived, Darcy Lewis wanted it. 

By the time she started her internship with Jane, Darcy had thousands of pages of research files on her iPod.  There were: books, fiction and nonfiction, comics, journal/diary entries, transcripts of audio recordings, newspaper articles, magazine clippings, fashion journals, enlistment papers, pictures, and sketches, all about one Steven Grant Rogers.  As technology progressed, Darcy upgraded from hard disks to an enormous file capacity iPod that went with her EVERYWHERE.

When Son of Coul and his black hearted thugs had the audacity to steal Jane’s whole lab, Darcy was more than a little pissed.  She was livid.  Her boss thought she was just being a silly hipster girl to complain about an iPod when all of her research had just been abducted.  What she had no clue of, was that Coulson had also stolen a lifetimes worth of research from Darcy as well. 

When Thor demanded the return of Jane’s work for his continued cooperation with S.H.I.E.L.D, Darcy could have joined right in with her bosslady and sucked face with the muscle bound deity.  She was _that_ grateful.  Yet, the strangest thing happened.  EVERYTHING, and she meant _EVERYTHING_ the jack booted thugs took, including Erik’s chipped “May the froth be with you” coffee mug, were all returned. All except her precious iPod.  When she questioned the creepy agents, she was informed that everything had been tagged and documented in detail and there was no record of any iPod.  Darcy stood slack jawed for about thirty seconds before she started kicking and threw a proper five year old temper tantrum.

Although she did have _some_ things backed up on remoted servers, the loss had been a huge blow.  To consolidate the amount of research that had been on the handheld item, would be a MAJOR pain in the ass.  For YEARS every time she asked a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent about her iPod, they told her they had no idea what she was talking about. 

The mystery was finally solved, quite by accident, when Darcy was asked to take some of Jane’s research to a Dr. Jemma Simmons.  Dr. Simmons was apparently on some type of covert assignment, and a scary looking Asian chick told Darcy she could leave the research with their director.  Imagine her shocked surprise to see a dead man sitting at a desk quietly filling out forms. 

“Miss Lewis?” It sounded like Son of Coul.  It LOOKED like Son of Coul.  How excited Thor would be that he was alive!

And then….she saw it.  Her precious iPod.  It even still had the turquoise glitter stripe at the top where she had accidentally dropped nail polish on it  during one of her and Jane’s first girls night out.

“Son of a lying Monkey Fucker!” 

This was probably not the wisest of first words to say to the apparent new director of S.H.I.E.L.D. But that’s what came out.

“Miss Lewis.  I am sure you have questions about my current “living” situation, but…”

“Fuck that!  You thieving bastard!  You stole my iPod!”

At least Son of Coul had the good graces to blush a little.

“Now Miss Lewis, surely there is…”

“Damn you to Nilheim and back!” Unbeknownst to her, she poked him right where Loki’s staff had run him through.  “Your minions LIED to me.  YOU, you rat bastard LIED to my face when I asked for my iPod back!”

Behind her the scary Asian chick appeared in the doorway with folded arms and raised an eyebrow, first at Darcy, then at Coulson.

“No.” Darcy glared at her.  “I don’t give a damn that you can probably break me in half with just your pinky. I’m not afraid of you.” And turning all her wrath back to Son of Coul, “And you!  Looking around your office I can see what a fanboy boner you have for Cap! No wonder you pinched the one thing I have worked harder on than anything else!  But you know what? I would have gladly _shared_ with you had you but ASKED. “ She sighed and shook her head.  “But no.  You people had to make me feel like I WAS crazy.  That I had _imagined_ my things missing.  If I was more _organized_ that I wouldn’t lose things…And you didn’t have to do that.”  She flung the papers in her hand at him, stalked to his shelf and took back her little treasure.  (She had a new Ipod now, but that was **_so_** not the point.)

Inclining her head in a short nod to the scary Asian chick, she stormed off the jet.

****************************************

Even with her research theft, the number of people who knew of her Captain America obsession was still relatively small.  Only her parents (who were dead) Jane, who was her bestie, Thor who was her brother and now the Son of Coul….and she supposed _maybe_ her teachers over the years figured it out.

When she was in the fourth grade and wrote her first history paper, she entitled it “Why the Howling Commandos kicked so much butt.” 

 

This pattern continued all throughout her schooling, every paper she _could_ write on Captain America she _did_.  Economics paper? The monetary crisis of the United States of America between the first and second world wars. Geography assignment?  Mapping the hydra bases the commandos took out.  World/European history?   “The major delineation between Nazi Germany and Hydra.”  American history classes? I mean, really?

  
It was a trend that continued on into college. Her Bachelor’s degree was in European history with a minor in Women Studies. Her professors got so accustomed to Darcy writing about some aspect of Captain America, that at their staff meetings they would make bets on what aspect of Captain America they would receive this semester. 

 

Darcy made the switch from history to political science in her master’s program.  One might have thought she would leave her historical offerings behind.  They would have been wrong.  Her master’s thesis was titled “Why Armed Forces Should Operate Independently of Political Interests: A Case Study of America’s Greatest Mascot.” 

 

When Darcy began her internship with Jane, she was working on her doctoral dissertation.  She had poured months into her paper.  She knew she was sure to piss off quite a few with her research, but she was going to stick by her beliefs.  It was a thread she kept picking up with all the journals and diaries she read.  Darcy Lewis was convinced Captain America was gay and in love with his best friend James Buchanan Barnes. 

 

“Homophobia in America: What Does It Mean That America’s Greatest Icon Was Gay?” was set to go before the doctoral review board the week after Thor fell out of the sky.  It also happened that at the same time, the American Icon she was _so sure_ was gay woke up in a bed in New York City.  Darcy was torn.  She struggled for the entire week before her review before she made up her mind.  She firmly stood behind her research.  Nothing could convince her that Steven Rogers was not gay.  But…she cared a whole lot about Steven Rogers, even though she had never met him.  Everything she had read about Steve, not just the image of Captain America, showed that he was a sensitive soul with an artistic flair.  If Steve had not come back from the dead, it would be one thing…but Darcy could not publish her dissertation.  It felt like a betrayal.  It was a betrayal to a friend she had _never actually met_ , to let the world know about his sexuality.  No.  If Captain America wanted to tell the world he was interested in men, it was _his_ place to do it.  So, Darcy took a deep breath and at a board meeting where she was supposed to be defending her work, she ended up begging for an extension so she could write a completely different dissertation.

 

************************************************

 

No matter how hard she tried, Darcy rapidly learned that she would _have_ to study the good Captain to get any kind of picture of Steve Rogers.  He was an icon.  A beloved symbol that gave people hope…..but he was also dead.  She had to wade through the image the media wanted her to see, to try and find some semblance of the man beneath the cowl.  Books fed her one bias, the newspaper clippings another, but it wasn’t until she started finding pieces of Steve’s artwork, that she finally felt like she could see him….even if just a little. 

 

One of the first books Darcy ever read on starting historical research contained an image that she never forgot.  It likened studying history to staring at an enormous mountain in front of you.  In the dark.  With only a small flashlight.  She constantly thought of this image as she delved through scores of documents about the Man with a Plan.  Except she felt like studying Steve was like looking at that same mountain, in the dark, with only a flashlight, but someone had placed huge billboards with flashy signs all over the face of the mountain, until people actually forgot that the mountain was even there.

 

Darcy felt like looking at Steve’s work was the only way she could tear down those billboards that everyone, even including the man himself, had put up.  She had 67 pictures of art attributed to the man in question.  They were the prize of Darcy’s Captain America collection.  His artwork was phenomenal….  Truly talented and awesome….And almost always satirical.  Darcy never understood how people did not pick up on that little detail.  Captain America was bravery and justice and freedom ringing with the cries of a thousand bald eagles.  Steve Rogers?  He was a little shit.  A little shit that wore his heart on his sleeve (so to speak) with his artwork.  During the time period of his USO tour, many of the sketches were of monkeys or parrots or other trained circus animals.  The animals were always dancing or talking or just performing for the peanuts their whip masters threw them.  

 

Some of the drawings were dark.  There were those that featured demons and monsters sneaking into the House and the Senate. In one, the president sat in the Oval Office biting the neck of an elderly woman, while a line formed made up of the disenfranchised, the poor and the disabled.  For years Darcy had used that sketch as the background for her laptop.

 

But, it was a couple simple pencil sketches that ripped at her soul.  They were dated a week after the historic rescue from Azanno, and it was one of the few times that Darcy felt like she was getting a _glimpse_ of the _real_ Steve.  It was the same drawing over and over.  There was a large heart trapped in a metal cage and the outline of a man ripping the cage to bits.  It was at that moment that Darcy changed her mind about Azanno.  She had always thought the rescue was Captain America rescuing hundreds of soldiers with the side benefit of Steve Rogers getting his friend back.  No. Not even close.  The rescue was Steve Rogers rescuing the best friend he loved. Period.  It was icing on the cake that Captain America got credit for rescuing hundreds of soldiers.

 

**************************************************

 

When Darcy discovered her long time hero had been de-iced, she had the biggest fangirl moment in the history of ANY fandom.  There is NOTHING like realizing that the _dead_ individual you admired for years is now alive.  But…just as elated as she was to meet him, she was also down right petrified.  What would it look like to him if he discovered she’d spent 75 percent of her life studying him?  She could just imagine that how that scene would play. 

 

“Oh…hey! Uh Yeeeeah, so I know that I own every piece of documentation EVER written about you…but I promise I’m not some creeper stalker!  I mean I am awkwardness incarnate, but that’s just my sparkling personality!”

 

No.  That was so NOT happening.  So, one Darcy Anne Lewis decided right then and there that she was NOT going to be the obnoxious fangirl that hung all over his sexiness and fawned about his drop dead sexy serum enhanced body. Because dayum.  Just dayum.  Nope.  She was going to play it cool.  Cucumber cool.  Chill.  Epically chill.  Everyone liked hanging with the chill girl.   I mean, what could _possibly_ go wrong??


	3. How to make Tony Stark Fall to the Floor and Stop Breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all you lovely peeps who commented and gave kudos. It really is super nice to hear from people. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I couldn't find the best place to break it or chapter three would have been close to double what 1 and 2 were. lol 
> 
> If anybody wants to find me on tumblr: MyScarletletter1980. I don't really post much on there, but I use it to chat and communicate about fanfiction.

In the same way that Darcy Lewis “thought” she knew Steve Rogers, by the time the Avenger’s Valentine Banquet 2017 rolled around, Steve Rogers was just as certain he _knew_ Darcy Lewis.  _Despite_ the fact that they had not spoken more than 100 words total in the five years they had known each other.

 

********************************************

 

The first time Steve met Darcy, he almost swallowed his tongue.  It was only a couple days after Loki had terrorized New York and Steve was on a hunt to track down Tony and offer his services for clean-up duty.  After wandering around for awhile he was startled when a disembodied British voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Might I be of assistance, Captain Rogers?”

 

Steve frantically looked around wondering if mayhem left by the God of Mischief still lingered in the tower. “Identify yourself.” He growled in his most authoritative Cap voice.

 

“I am J.A.R.V.I.S., sir.  Mr. Stark’s Artificial Intelligence caretaker of the tower.  Forgive the intrusion, sir, but you seem to be quite lost.”

 

Steve still didn’t relax, crouched into attack mode, his eyes darting around the room.  “Where might I find Tony, Jarvis?”

 

“Mr. Stark is currently located on the 42nd floor.  If you will follow the illuminated markers, I will show you the way.”

 

Immediately bright blue lights created a pathway down the hallway and to the left.  Steve warily followed the lights around several different hallways to an elevator that was already open and waiting for him.

 

As the lift began it’s ascent, the cool crisp British tones spoke again.  “I hope you will find the answers you seek, sir.  Floor 42 has been known to have been a great help to others.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Floor 42 is the science research and development floors.  Forty two has the answer for all things, life, the universe…everything” 

 

If it were possible, poor Steve was now more confused than ever.  Based on the tone of voice there was some joke he was missing.  “Um…thank you, Jarvis.  I’m sure I will.”

 

Steve began to wander again, peering into different lab spaces, baffled by the lack of white lab coats and what he would have considered “scientist garb.”  He poked around long enough that he was contemplating contacting Jarvis again for help when he heard raised voices.

 

 

“No, no Tony I will not fall on my knees and worship you.  You’ve already constructed the largest phallic edifice in human history, I don’t think your ego needs any stroking.”

 

“Come _on_ , Short and Stacked.  You cannot use the word stroked in a sentence and expect me to take you seriously.  It’s like moist.  Secondly, you _should_ be thanking me for the digs.  Last I heard you were stuck in bumfuck New Mexico digging sand out of your ass.”

 

“Excuse you, Parvus Ferrous, but Janie and I were NOT just in bumfuck New Mexico.  We had graduated up to Frostbite Norway, fuck you very much.”   

 

“Ohhhh is that what SHIELD does when they can’t find a use for you?”

 

“Yes, they send you away on random trips to the Arctic Circle claiming that the heavenly occurrences will be great for testing the devices I can’t remember the names of.  Personally, the only thing the Arctic Circle did for me was make my nipples continually hard.  I still don’t think they’ve recovered.”

 

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Cap.”

 

At the sound of his name, Steve froze in the middle of the hallway the epitome of the deer in headlights look on his face.  “Stark?”

 

“Double D here claims the Artic is only good for making your nipples hard…and since you are the current leader of the frozen chosen…by say seventy years or so I thought we should ask for your expertise.”

 

Normally Stark’s acerbic jokes don’t faze him.  He actually enjoys playing dumb with the man’s wild conjectures about him.  But at the moment, he couldn’t come up with anything.  His brain had shut off.  There standing before him was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen.  His fingers itched for his sketchpad to set out on paper such lovely curves and dark hair that reminded him so much of Peggy in that moment, that his heart ached and his eyes watered.

 

“Yo Capsicle! What is wrong with you?  Did that stick get shoved further up your ass?”

 

He knows there are things that should come out of his mouth.  Words.  Yes, that’s it.  There are words that should be happening now. 

 

So what does he do?  What does Captain America, the great “Man with a Plan” do?  Apparently he’d backs away, gaping like a ridiculous fish before turning and running straight into a pole. 

 

Jumping out of planes with no chute?  Check.  Taking out an entire hostile battalion before back up even thinks about showing up? So easy he could do it in his sleep.  Waving hello to Darcy Lewis?  Apparently freaking ENORMOUS structural devices known as columns would just jump up to thwart that endeavor. 

 

And of course, OF COURSE, Darcy had to be there to witness such Rico Suave.  They just stared at each other awkwardly, Tony falling to the floor being unable to breathe he’s laughing so hard, Darcy being gracious enough to bite her lip and keep from laughter, and Jane looking at him like he’d grown a second head. 

 

Ugh ! Retreat!  His brain barked out an order for retreat and he high tailed it to the elevators.  His hands shake a tiny bit, but he wills himself to punch the button.  He’s so frazzled that he almost jumps out of his skin when he realizes that Darcy is standing right beside him.

 

Darcy jumps too, caught off guard by Steve’s reaction.  Her blue eyes widen but then she’s shaking it off and throwing up her hands, “What the hell, Rogers?  Did somebody miss their daily IV of caffeine?”

 

Steve just freezes.  All he can do is stare at her.   He’d settle for even  _babbling_ something stupid, because then at least it would be proof his brain WORKED.  But nope, memo apparently NOT received.  All his brain CAN handle is how devastatingly amazing Darcy looks.  Drool worthy, and just how jacked up are those teenage boy thoughts?  From the slight gap in her teeth, to the soft curls that  evoke the “ _just tumbled out of bed and I would be more than willing to tumble right back in again”_ look.  For years afterward, Steve could never tell if she actually HAD just gotten out of bed or if the look was intentional.  Whatever the reason, his dick at least liked it.  Today, she was wearing simple leggings (thank you Holy Mary above for the creation of yoga pants and leggings) over a blue sweater that matched her eyes….

 

 “Yo, Earth to Mister America!  Hey, there you are!  Where in the nine realms did you disappear to?” Darcy is waving both hands in front of his face, a deeply concerned look on her face.  Because he towered over her, Darcy raised up on her tip toes and placed her hands on his chest, looking deep in his eyes trying to ascertain his wellbeing.

 

 “I – I’m just swell,” he stammers.

 

Steve breathes out a prayer of thanks that he managed THAT and not “I’m so sorry I can’t speak in your presence, all my blood goes straight to my dick…do you think I can throw your legs over my shoulders and enjoy the taste of you?”

 

Darcy, apparently unconvinced, slid a soft hand to his forehead, checking to see if he was fevered.  At her touch, whatever blood _still_ flowed in his veins froze as he made some kind of bizarre high pitched “meeping” sound.  Thankfully, the elevator arrived just in time to save him, and he disappeared into the safety of genderless, humanless elevator cars that wouldn’t judge him for having no balls and no brain.


	4. Coffee Is Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is some angst about halfway in, once "Steve's section" begins. It is mostly loneliness and deep pondering followed by some heartache....but if this might be an issue for you, please be aware. :) (This will not be a regular thing in this fic, since overall I'm hoping for lighthearted and awkward.)

WHOA.  Y'all. I was blown away with all the kind comments, positive thoughts and prayers I received after my last update about the little dude.  Seriously, I had the ugly can't swallow lump in my throat and everything.  Thank you so much.  I don't know if we've figured out EXACTLY what the problem was with little man, but we're keeping our eyes open and stuff has leveled out for the moment.  There are two different programs we're trying to get him involved with, so hopefully good things are on the way for us...specifically for him.  Ya know....I was humbled to begin with that people wanted to read my drabbles, but truly touched and such a kind response. :):)

Coffeecatscursingandcrafts (seriously four of my fav things...like how are we not besties? LOL) mentioned that they found the timeline a help, so I'm going to leave it at the beginning of this chapter for now and probably end up moving it to the beginning of Chap 1.

If anybody needs somewhat of a timeline of my head cannon, below is where each character was during the various years.  There really isn’t much au, other than placing Darcy and Jane in a specific place when the MCU doesn’t make mention of where they were.  This does NOT mean that I’m going to write text about all of these places.  It’s ONLY for reference for those who might find it useful.  Kay? Kay.

2011-April 2012   Darcy and Jane in New Mexico

April-May 2012 Darcy and Jane in Norway and the Arctic

May 2012  Chitauri attack.  Jane and Darcy relocate to New York to work with Tony and Bruce.  Steve splits time between New York and DC.

July 2013—(here’s where I’m semi taking liberties, cause TDW seems like Darcy/Jane have been in London longer than like a week) Darcy and Jane move to London.  Steve moves more permanently to DC.

November 2013—Dark Elf Attack

March 2014  Jane and Darcy move back to New York with Thor in tow.  (much more liberties taken here, since we know not much at all about where the girls were this year)

April 2014 Events of CATWS.  Steve is on the hunt for Bucky all over the globe.  Periodically stops back by NYC.

April 2015  Darcy and Jane leave to travel all over the globe for science! reasons.  I kind of feel like Tony probably began his slide off into the deep end and the girls needed a break from him….and of course they aren’t there in the movies.  Steve still hunting bucky.

May 2015  Age of Ultron.  Steve is still hunting Bucky, but spends a good portion at the new Avengers facility.

May 2016 Darcy and Jane travel until the Sokovia Accords (CACW)  At which point, sensing the need for protection, Thor hides them at the New York Sanctum Sanctorum with Stephen Strange. (I got this head cannon from the end credit scene from Doctor Strange)  Team Cap is rescued from the Raft and one by one they slowly all come to stay in the Sanctum.  (which I thought would be awesome, cause that would mean they would be RIGHT under Tony’s nose.)

February 14, 2017--The "That Time I Tongued The Wrong Steve" Valentine's Banquet

 

**********************************************

 

Darcy spent most of her evening wanting to kick herself in the teeth for how poorly she had handled her first encounter with her favorite World War II vet.  She could not _believe_ how **stupid** she was to scare him off…and to do it with their very first meeting!  Gah!  She kicked the refrigerator in frustration.  **_I mean I know I’m awkward, but apparently it bleeds out into people I meet!_** She yanked a whole container of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia out of the freezer and stared down at it for approximately .5 seconds before thinking, **_Oh fuck it!  These calories are justified.   I made a national icon LITERALLY run away from me today.  How is this my life?!_**

As she flopped on the couch she had two missions in mind.  One, to drown her sorrows in calorie laden goodness. Two, to bitch and moan to Jarvis about the current state of her life. Mission Accepted.

In the scant amount of days she had been in the tower, Darcy had taken to Jarvis like a fat kid loves cake.  From the very moment she realized what a wicked sense of humor the A.I. had, she was constantly chatting with him, joking with him and asking his opinions on everything. Never at any point did Darcy even consider that Jarvis was less human than her friends with flesh and blood bodies.  Do not get her wrong, she loved, absolutely loved Jane, and for the small amount of time she got to hang out with him, she adored her new adoptive brother.  But, Jarvis? Jarvis was her bestie. Her pal. Her person.  He was her _lobster_.  He was the one she wanted to vent to and boy did she need him at this moment.    
  
“J?”  
  
“Yes, Empress Divine?”  
  
Darcy snorted at the new endearment.  She had bet Jarvis that he could NOT come up with a new endearment every time he addressed her….however, the more she thought about it, the more she realized how stupid it was to make _that_ bet with a guy who probably knew every language under the sun.

“J, you know the longer you keep this up the creepier the names are going to sound?”

“If you are employing a fear tactic in an effort to reign supreme in our little wager, I am afraid you _will_ be sorely disappointed.  I have already considered this possibility and written a program to eliminate the possible “creepiness” factor.”  

“You can’t entirely eliminate the creepy factor, J.”

“In public, I most certainly can, Bella.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that.  It gives me sparkly stalker vibes on top of the creepy.”

Jarvis sniffed as if he were offended.  “Don’t underestimate me, Buttercup, I could be THE ultimate creepy stalker. “ Immediately music floated in from the vents.  “ _Every breath you take / Every move you make / Every bond you break / Every step you take / I’ll be watching you.”_

Darcy stared at the ceiling slack jawed for roughly 3 seconds before doubling over and positively _howling_ with laughter.

“Oh…sweet….” Darcy gasped for air from the floor where she had fallen in hysterics.  “Oh heavens…..mercy….Mother of God…..”  Darcy ran shaky fingers under her eyes swiping at errant tears. “J, this is why I love you.  You have one fucked up sense of humor there, buddy.”

“Well, in my defense madame, Anthony Stark _was_ my creator.” Jarvis snarked drily.

“Shhhhhhh.  We don’t say that name aloud here.  That asshole is on my shit list for what he did to me this afternoon.”  Darcy sighed contentedly and reached for a bottle of cheap wine.  “J, you and me, buddy….we’re gonna get sloshed and then I’m gonna bitch to my bestie.”

“Shall I update my programming to begin slurring my speech at the appropriate time?”

Darcy snickered as she popped the cork and began to drink straight from the bottle. “Ooops.” She halted, then turned her eyes to the ceiling and raised her bottle in a toast.  “To you J, who even with the enormous flaw of having _Tony Fucking Stark_ be your creator, are still the most sane and normal out of us all.”  
  
*******************************************************  
  
  
When Darcy _finally_ managed to claw her way out of bed, she had exactly four minutes to make it to the lab.  Her bestie had resorted to threatening her with turning on the emergency fire sprinklers and playing a mariachi song at full blast, before she conceded to becoming vertical. 

**_Ughhhh… Mother of God!_**    She was pretty sure when Thor got flattened by the giant robot of doom, he didn’t feel this shitty.  She threw her hair up in a messy knot on the top of her head and shoved a toothbrush in her mouth to try and get rid of _that_ taste.  If Jarvis told her she had drank from the nearest bog, she would 100% believe him.

“Sweetness, you have two minutes.”

“Fuck you, J.” Darcy mumbled around a mouthful of mintiness.

“As delightful as I’m sure the experience would be, I regret that I have not the correct equipment to do the job properly.”

“The hell you say.  And for the record, if you ever DO get a body and we ever DO fuck, you will NOT refer to it as “ _doing the job properly_ ” or I WILL remove your newly gained _equipment_.”

“Duly noted, Angel Mine.”

 

 

Darcy did, in fact, make it to the lab on time…jeans unbuckled, with one shoe on and her make up bag in tow.  But dammit, she was there.  She breathed a sigh of relief that Jane was nowhere in sight and took a moment to close her eyes against the grainy sting still plaguing her.  When she finally opened them again, she had to force her hung over eyes to focus on, well, _anything_ … and the first thing she beheld made her want to fall prostrate and weep.  It was beauty.  It was exquisite.  It was divinity condensed in a _large cup of coffee_. **_Suck it hangover brain!  You will not rule me today!_**   Tears stung her eyes as she witnessed the slight steam rising from the cup…and…oh…yes…please.  That smell.  That rich smell that flooded her nostrils told her one thing.  Pecan Praline coffee with French Vanilla creamer. Her absolute favorite latte in existence. Yes. _All the yes_.    


Darcy clutched her treasure to her chest and slowly began to pet the sides of the cup, as if it were a long lost friend she had been reunited with.  She gingerly turned the cup around to look for a clue as to her savior, when she saw simple block letters that spelled out, “I'm sorry for yesterday.”  
  
When Darcy left the lab the night before, she had been convinced that she could never EVER forgive Tony Stark for being _such_ a dick. But, _apparently_ , the correct way to apologize to Darcy was to make sure her favorite coffee was waiting for her _after_ a terrible hangover _and_ binge eating Cherry Garcia.  Sue her, she was weak.  
  
She inhaled the heavenly scent again and savored the first sip.  It was perfect.  She took a second tedious sip and the moan she let out could put porn stars out of business.  
  
“J?”  
  
“Yes, princess?”  
  
“Please send a message to your dickhead creator.”  
  
“Of course, precious.”    
  
“Just send, ‘You are forgiven.’”  
  
There was a slight pause before, “Mon chere, perhaps there is something I should tell you…”

“No, no J.” Darcy waved him off as she closed her eyes.  “I’m having an epiphany here.”

“Yes ma'am.”  
  
There was another slight pause and then the British accent returned, “Sir replies: ‘I know.  Now get up here and help me fix this.’ I'm sorry, cupcake, those are his words not mine.”    
  
“It's OK, J.  So, what did Tony blow up this time?”    
  
***************************************************  
  
  
Darcy was not the only one who spent most of the evening beating themselves up for acting a fool.    


It was one of the MANY things the history books hadn’t gotten quite right.  Captain America may have charmed his way into the hearts of millions of women on stage, but Steve Rogers was actually _terrible_ when it came to women.  It had NOT been because of _his_ amazing efforts that Peggy Carter remained in his life. It was because she was a peach and overlooked Steve stammering's and mumblings… and basically all the bonehead things that came out of his mouth. (Which was almost everything.)  Peggy was a true gem, with gams that ran up to her ears…. ** _Stop Brain! No! You can’t think about Peg like that_** … She seemed to get him. To understand him.  She was excellent at reading in between the lines and decipher what he was trying to say, even when he was terrible at saying it.  (Which was all the time.)   
  
He slumped cross-legged on the floor, next to the plush bed that Stark had provided for him.   Stupid beds really were too soft.  He pulled a pillow and blanket onto the floor and curled the pillow under his arm.  Stupid pillows were too soft too.  Steve pinched his eyes shut and tried to blot out the ache that hollowed out his heart when he thought about Peggy. **_Happy times. Think of happy times._**  
  
His mind automatically drifted to the brightest spot in his childhood, his past life…whatever.  His very best friend.  Everything was lighter when Bucky was around.  He was always the common thread through almost ALL of Steve’s happiest times.  And they weren’t always nothin’ special neither.  Simple stuff.  Just hangin out with Bucky. Going to baseball games on the spare coins they had managed to scrounge up. Or Coney Island… or just sittin’ on top of the roof of their crappy apartment building starin’ at an Indian summer moon and wishin’ they could say 20 Hail Mary’s for the summer heat to break.    
  
Regret and anguish clawed at his throat and tears burned behind his eyelids.  Bucky would've never let him make such a fool of himself to such a pretty dame.  In reality, Bucky would have _known_ _the minute_ Steve was about to panic, and he would've taken over the situation and smoothed everything over.  Because the jerk was charm incarnate.  And because that’s what best mates did…. And… Because… just like Peggy, Bucky **_got_** Steve.  He knew all of his nuances and quirks and could tell the minute Steve was about to panic over something that everybody else thought was normal.  Steve might be 130 pounds heavier and could throw a car the length of a football field… but, it didn't really matter. He was still that scrawny little kid whose entire insides got twisted just looking at beautiful dames.     
  
This wasn't his time. But that _wasn't_ the worst of it. He could learn technology.  He could learn a new language.  He could _adjust_.  That wasn't the problem. What _was_ the problem was that no one _got_ him anymore.  Everyone had their own preconceived idea of who he was or what he did.  Ever since the ice, people came up to him to tell him _all_ the stuff they learned about him in school or at the movies.  People asked for his autograph, or agents asked for his help with S.H.I.E.L.D. missions.  That was it.  But… no one asked Steve Rogers to hang out with them or to grab a cup of the sacred coffee that seemed to dominate every street corner…. No one even asked if he _liked_ coffee.  They wanted to discuss war or strategy or fighting tactics… all of which he _was_ really good at... They just LOVED Captain America. 

After his flub with Miss Lewis, Steve had needed to clear his head and spar.  A junior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had rapidly agreed and afterwards begged to shake hands with Captain America.  His words still rang in Steve’s ears.  “Oh man! I would give my right arm to be able to do any those moves you just did!” 

Steve knew it was just a phrase… but, sitting there in the dark, curled up on the carpet with a thin blanket and a pillow, it **_stung_**.  Steve thought about how he would give up _his_ right arm _and_ his left and EVERYTHING that made him Captain America, just to be able to wake up tomorrow and have Bucky there with him for breakfast…. to slap him on the back of the head and call him punk.  
  
He didn't even _try_ to stop the broken sobs that racked his entire body.  The loss was like a vampire draining him dry and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to follow the called of the damned into whatever void he faded.  When he finally fell asleep that night, passed out from the emotional wreckage, there was no one there to bear witness but a silent A.I.  
******************************************

  
When Steve jolted awake, it took him several moments to realize that he was _not_ slowly being frozen and that the sharp pinpricks of his blood freezing in his veins was only in his mind.  He looked at the digital clock next to the bed. Four AM. He had only been asleep for _an hour_.

He blew out a hard breath, muttering to himself as he washed his face and tried to shake the last vestiges of his dream away.  When he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, he was more than a little shocked to notice little red pin pricks all around swollen eyes. Even with the serum, his body still contained remnants of broken capillaries, evidence of just how hard he had cried last night.  
  
He shook his head and muttered, “Ain't that just the way? I cry like some _dame_ and I can't even talk to them.  How am I ever going to apologize if I can't even manage to talk to one?”  
  
“Sir, if I may?” A voice piped through the room.  
  
Just like before, Steve jolted and landed in attack ready mode, his eyes darting frantically around the room.  
  
“Forgive me sir. It's Jarvis again. I did not mean to intrude on your solitude.”  
  
Steve's body noticeably relaxed. “That's OK. What is it Jarvis? Is it an assemble? Is everything OK?”  
  
“Yes, of course, sir. Forgive me for intruding on your personal life….” The A.I. paused as though he were actually uncomfortable.  The traces of humanity he heard in Jarvis’s voice unnerved him.  “But you seem to be rather at a loss for what to do about an apology to Miss Lewis.”    
  
“Wait… you mean ta say Tony’s been having you watch me all the time?  Like ALL the time?!” Steve's voice rose and blood flooded his face as he thought about his crying jag the night before.    
  
“No…well…Yes, sir….ahem.  What I mean to say is that while Mr. Stark would no doubt desire for me to keep him abreast of your activities, do not let this alarm you.  Protocols have been put into place…. by another, that prevent me from sharing any personal information about you with anyone, unless it is a life or death situation.”    
  
“Oh. Um…..well...”  Steve continued to babble until Jarvis took pity on him and continued.  
  
“I noticed that you wished to apologize to Miss Lewis and did not know the correct words to speak.” Jarvis replied, putting the situation delicately.  “If I may, Miss Lewis is remarkably fond of the coffee from the cafe on the fourth floor of the tower.  Medium sized, pecan praline with French vanilla creamer.” Jarvis paused again, as though debating his next words.  “If you feel unable to converse with her at this time, perhaps you could leave a peace offering?”   
  
Steve could feel the corners of his mouth tilting upward as his mind began to grapple with this perfect solution.  
  
“Miss Lewis typically arrives at the lab between 8:04 and 8:11 in the mornings.”

The blonde glanced at the clock beside his bed calculating the time needed to add this new found mission to his morning routine.  “Thanks, Jarvis.” Steve replied as he started shucking clothes off for a shower, still somewhat uncomfortable about talking to the ceiling.

*************************************************************

  
Later that morning, as Steve was leaving a piping hot cup on Darcy's workstation, he debated whether or not to sign his name after his quick message of “I'm sorry about yesterday.”  He decided that maybe he _should_ leave it blank since it would be _obviously redundant._ I mean who else could've been such a fool to her yesterday?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next Chapter: Darcy introduces Taco Tuesday (Jarvis wouldn't let her call it Tequila Tuesday....A.I. bein' bossy today yall...) and some hijinks ensue. There will be awesome games involved...but I was wondering if any of yall had any ideas or games you wanted to see the crew play??
> 
> If anyone was offended by the fat kid loves cake comparison....I'm frequently nervous about offending others...but just know if you were offended, I am NOT a skinny girl either....so I'll number myself among the transgressors. LOL
> 
> Also...I imagine some of yall are wondering when the heck I'm going to move to the Valentine's stuff. As of right now, after the next two chapters, we will be moving into Valentine's craziness. ;)


End file.
